


We Like You (This is a Game Already Won)

by dreamonlosers



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Ed Swears, Family, Friendship, Gen, Parental Maes Hughes, Political Parties, and edward gets roasted like gracia's cooking, because he always is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 15:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9241583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamonlosers/pseuds/dreamonlosers
Summary: Ed’s collar was rough against the bottom of his jaw, too high for his taste, and his dress pants were too snug on his hips and long, the slacks dipping over the sides of his shoes. Tying his own tie had been an uneasy feat and it wasn’t just once that he thought of tying it into a noose, because surely that would be a good enough excuse for his absence. It wasn’t his idea to attend the government’s holiday function, - it wasn’t like he owed anything to the sleazy, cocky Colonel Bastard, who asked for his presence in the spirit of profession and ‘goodwill’, and it wasn’t like anyone expected him to attend, anyways, he was only asked.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story about friendship, mostly. Nothing romantic or otherwise is meant to be implied - Edward is fourteen, for god's sake. While I do love exploring Roy and Ed's relationship, it's always in the context of romance or parental and I don't think it's either. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! The title came from 'Stop Trying' by Sia.

Ed’s collar was rough against the bottom of his jaw, too high for his taste, and his dress pants were too snug on his hips and long, the slacks dipping over the sides of his shoes. Tying his own tie had been an uneasy feat and it wasn’t just once that he thought of tying it into a noose, because surely that would be a good enough excuse for his absence. It wasn’t his idea to attend the government’s holiday function, - it wasn’t like he owed anything to the sleazy, cocky Colonel Bastard, who asked for his presence in the spirit of profession and ‘goodwill’, and it wasn’t like anyone expected him to attend, anyways, he was only asked.

But, somehow, he found himself being unapologetically waved off by his little brother, who had ushered him out the door and into the rainy evening. Alphonse’s tinny voice had rung throughout his armor as he chirped, “Bye, brother! Don’t be mean to the colonel and his friends! Have fun!”

Edward huffed, raised his hand in the manner of farewells and didn’t look back at his brother. “Yeah, yeah, see you later,” he had said, but adding under his breath, “’Have fun’, my ass. This night is gonna blow.”

The dormitories weren’t too far from the where the function was being held, which was an official-unofficial space roped off for special events, akin to a ballroom but far less elegant, and Ed hated that he didn’t have too far to walk. Not even the longer route gave him much time to evade the party, and he would ditch it all together if he didn’t also know that someone would rat him out to his brother, knowing all too well what kind of disappointment he would be met with. He didn’t want to do anything like that again. Alphonse wasn’t worth letting down, and he couldn’t go himself, as a suit of armor, so Ed did what his brother couldn’t do.

Cobblestones were already wet when he came to the ballroom, nodding politely to the greeters stuck outside. He didn’t look at the guards, though, and he knew that they weren’t looking at him, but knowing that they knew who he was. Fourteen year old state alchemists were pretty unique, and even after two years since his exam, no one had forgotten. It was kind of a pain in the ass, but it was a card he could play when he needed it.

The doors had opened thirty minutes before Edward’s arrival. Anyone from warrant officers to the general had already made appearances and Edward missed the brunt of the introductions, something he didn’t have any opposition to. He made his way over to the buffet table where he planned to spend most of his time, although the food didn’t look very appetizing, as most of it had been brought by the officers and military personnel didn’t make to be very good chefs. Sometimes, however, their wives were more than great, and that’s when Ed saw the spinach quiche at the edge of the table, quite clearly made by Gracia Hughes.

Edward could easily claim that seeing the dish had been the highlight of his evening, seeing that its crust was perfectly buttery and light and the filling was a mix of creamy cheese and spinach. He cut himself a slice, and a big one at that, but taking a bite had also summoned the lieutenant colonel, too quickly to be considered human. It was as if he knew that someone was eating his wife’s food from a good distance away. A sixth sense, likely.

Maes appeared behind him and clapped him on his shoulder. “Edward! Glad to see that you came. I have to say, I’m a bit surprised - didn’t think you would give in.”

“Lieutenant Colonel Hughes,” Ed said. “Yeah, Alphonse wanted me to come. Gracia couldn’t make it?”

The older man sighed. “No, she had to stay home with Elicia - y’know, she’s close to saying her first words! I think they might be ‘dad’ or ‘mom’, but all she can get out now are little syllables. And at six months! How smart is she? She could be a molecular physicist at this rate…”

Ed snorted, quiet for once. He wasn’t eager to end the conversation, because then Hughes could leave and someone else could talk to him, and he’d much rather listen to anecdotes about the lieutenant colonel’s young and only daughter than talk to any pompous bigwig who he might end up insulting. The lecture he would get the following day would be a pain in the ass and nothing could put him in the mood to tolerate that shit.

“But, enough about that,” Maes said, surprising Edward. “You’re not just going to stand around the food table, are you? The spinach quiche is good - Gracia’s a great chef, isn’t she? - but you should make friends. You’re fourteen now, right? There aren’t many girls your age around here, but - ”

“But, what?” Ed exclaimed, sputtering a bit. “I-I’m not looking for any of that kinda stuff! Al can’t—”

Maes chuckled. “I know, I know. I’m just messing with you, kiddo, I know you’re focused on getting your bodies back and everything. Although, I don’t think Al would hold it against you, if you did anything - he’s a good brother, and you’re still a teenager. Hey, Winry is coming into town soon, isn’t she? You two can—”

Edward was flushed from his hairline to his neck, and the infuriating, humored look on Maes’ face didn’t make things any better. “What? Shut up! I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”

He was laughing now, and Edward was still protesting. And someone walked up behind him and asking, “What’s Fullmetal on about, now? Something about his height, hm?”

Ed turned around and sputtered, " _Bastard Colonel!_ ”

Before he could continue, Hughes placed a silencing hand on his shoulder again and smiled at Roy. “I was just telling Edward that he should be more social. Don’t you agree, Colonel Mustang?”

Mustang took a sip of his drink, nodding. “I’m sure many people are interested in talking to the Fullmetal Alchemist - everyone wants to talk to a child prodigy, y’know? Especially one as popular as Edward. Although, I do hope that he refrains from using such crude language, not everyone would appreciate being called a bastard and anything else he might come up with.”

“Oh! Captain _Dick Majors_ instead of Captain Rick Majors!” Hughes added, his own pun amusing him. Roy laughed, too.

Ed huffed and crossed his arms, standing shortly between the two men. “This is harassment and bullying and I should report this to the human resources department.”

“C’mon, Fullmetal,” Roy hiccupped. “Relax a lil’bit.” 

“Stop drinking a _‘lil’bit’_ ,” Ed snapped, and Roy feigned indignation with a dramatic hand on his cheek.

“Why, Fullmetal, I would never - ”

But Maes intervened. “But you are, Roy, and I’m going to have to confiscate that wine from you.”

“Aw, damn.”

“Ha!”

Roy rolled his eyes and, for once, Edward realized that he didn’t want to knock out his teeth. Alcohol really did change a guy, he thought. Or maybe it was just because it was Hughes and him and no one else, so he didn’t have to keep up his usual, pretentious, obnoxious persona. Really, it was probably both, but it was different to meet _Roy Mustang_ , not _Colonel Mustang_ , alias the _Flame Alchemist_. Ed didn’t know if he liked it or not - it was a bit too strange, but so was everything else that evening, so he had to embrace it. 

The party continued with copious amounts of food and, thankfully, minimal amounts of conversation. Mustang had gone off with Lieutenant General Grumman to discuss matters of the military that Edward did not care for and, frankly, Grumman gave him the absolute creeps. Hughes left early after receiving a phone call from Gracia, who was worried about their daughter’s low fever, and the man acted as if the building had gone up in flames when he hung up the phone. But he did make it a point to tell Edward, “I want to hear the names of five people you talked to this evening - not me and Roy - and I will be checking, so don’t think you can get away with less. Get going, kiddo.”

He was going over the names in his head of the people he had ended up talking to ( _Gregory Sans, Lucy Cahill, Kim Wyrosdick, Thomas Yore, and Ross…Moore? No, that wasn’t it, damn_ ) when the sound of the piano came from the corner of the room. A woman wearing a blue dress, the same shade as the Amestrian uniform, smiled nervously at the crowd before straightening her gloves and returning to the keys. Ed watched as people murmured and paired off, grabbing whoever was close to them, man or woman, and - holy shit - danced. Edward had never danced in his life.

He was about to make a bolt to the door - Alphonse would forgive him - when someone tapped his shoulder and spoke in a hushed tone. “Fullmetal, you have to dance with me.”

“Holy shi - what the hell?” Ed said to Roy. “Why me? Can’t Hawkeye dance with you? Or literally _anyone else_?”

Mustang sighed. “Trust me, you weren’t my first choice either, but I’m afraid Lieutenant Hawkeye has left and everyone else is taken. And, if not you, then Grumman is going to, and you don’t hate me that much, do you?”

“Can’t you just _not_ dance?”

“No, I can’t. We’re not in the same position - we have different expectations from people. You may not understand, but I have to dance and, look, I’ll even say it - _please_.” Mustang stepped forward, so Ed stepped back, and that put them closer to the crowd of dancers. 

Ed snorted. “You only said that because you’re drunk.”

“And desperate,” Mustang admitted. “Fullmetal, c’mon.”

Edward huffed, throwing his hands in the air in an exasperated manner. “Fine, fine. Don’t get your panties in a knot, old man - and you owe me, big.” 

They stayed along the edge of the floor. Ed glanced around to see what everyone else was doing and imitated it, clasping flesh hands with Mustang and put his automail hand on his shoulder. Roy did the same, the smirk he was trying to hide still showing itself as Ed struggled to figure out what to do. He glared and whispered, “Don’t you dare find this funny - I can still say no.”

Mustang broke eye contact, as if that would resolve his grin, and tightened his grip. “You’re doing fine, Fullmetal, just follow my lead and try not to call me a bastard - I don’t need everyone to hear that.”

“Whatever, bastard.”

He stared at their feet during the song, trying to keep up with the movements and not stumble. Really, he was doing well for someone who had never danced before, and it helped that people weren’t paying attention to anyone but themselves.

They broke apart when the song ended, clapping with everybody else. The pianist bowed and shook her hands, so Mustang took the opportunity to say, “Thank you, Ed. I can find someone else now, you can go home like you planned on doing. Say hello to Alphonse for me.”

Ed nodded, a bit shocked, a bit dumb. “Sure, uh ,see you.”

Mustang had found himself a pretty brunette woman to dance with, placing his hand on her hip instead of her shoulder like he did with Edward. As he walked past, he disguised saying, “Whore,” with a cough, making purposeful eye contact with his commanding officer. Roy sneered at the alchemist, then smiled at his partner as a new song began.

Edward was almost to the doors, almost free, when an older woman grabbed his arm. Judging by her uniform, she was an officer nearing retirement, and Ed couldn’t say no when she asked for one dance with him. He wasn’t that much of a jerk, and not to an old lady, especially when she said, “You’re such a handsome young man.”

From across the room, Mustang stuck his tongue out at him and grinned. Edward pretended not to see, just silently thankful that he knew a little bit about dancing so he wouldn’t end up breaking the woman’s hip.

***

Alphonse was waiting for Edward when he got back to the dorms, as expected. It always hit Ed with a twinge of guilt because his brother could never sleep, just waited until Ed woke up. Another thing that wasn’t fair, and another thing that Al wouldn’t talk about.

He collapsed on the mattress and stared at the ceiling. Alphonse asked, “How was it, brother? I hope it wasn’t too terrible and Mr. Hughes kept you company.”

“It was fine,” he said. “He went home early and you might want to ask him how Elicia is doing tomorrow, she has a fever. And, uh, I had some of Gracia’s spinach quiche, so that’s always good. Can’t wait for you to try it.”

Ed gave his younger brother a sideways smile from where he lay. Alphonse was sitting on the other bed, his back against the wall. He said, “Me too.”

It sucked that Edward couldn’t tell if his brother didn’t want him to talk about how their bodies are lost, because that just reminds them of what they did to make it happen and who died to want them to do it in the first place. He didn’t ask, either - it wasn’t one of the things that Edward was great at. 

To compensate, Ed told Alphonse about Maes and the colonel, and how he had to dance for two songs - one with the colonel himself, the other with an old woman who had smelled too strongly of perfume, cigarettes, and cinnamon. His little brother laughed at that, which made Ed’s heart stop beating as fast as it was. 

“Brother, I didn’t know you liked dancing,” Al said. Ed rolled his eyes and sat up to look at him.

“I don’t, I just didn’t have a choice - the guy is a bastard, but I’m not evil. I couldn’t just let him dance with Grumman if there was anything I could do about it.” Ed shrugged off his dress shirt for the black tank top underneath and pulled off his slacks, grateful to be out of them. He kicked off his shoes and winced as they hit the wall.

Alphonse laid back on the mattress, his feet hanging off the edge of the bed. “Okay, brother, but I think you like him more than you let on. He’s not that bad.”

“Yeah, sure, Al.” Edward crawled under the covers. “He’s just an arrogant, know-it-all bastard.”

Alphonse might have said something in response, but Ed had already dozed off. 

The morning came and Alphonse woke him up a half-hour before he had to report to the colonel for his next mission. He still didn’t have his report finished for the last mission, and the one before that had a few missing details needed for it to be complete, so he was dreading the lecture to come. But when he arrived, the colonel didn’t say a word about it.

Colonel Mustang was a bit hungover from the party. However, Hughes had come in earlier to supply him with painkillers and water, insisting that he stay hydrated and going on until Mustang muttered, “Your rambling doesn’t make my headache any better, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes.”

Hughes, always the good sport, laughed and said, “My apologies, Colonel. I’m sure you have plenty of paperwork to return to. However, if you don’t mind, could I use your phone to call my wife? Elicia is sick and I just want to check in - ”

“You checked in an hour ago, but yes, fine, use the phone. Just don’t make it too long,” he told him, knowing well that the latter sentence would be ignored. He rubbed his forehead as his friend thanked him.

The lieutenant colonel stepped out of the office as Fullmetal walked in, plunking down on the wooden chair in front of the desk. He offered no greeting, just like always, waiting for the colonel to speak first. When he didn’t say anything, Ed shifted in his seat. “Colonel.”

“Yes, right,” Mustang said, shuffling through stacks of papers to find the one for his subordinate. Ed looked at Hawkeye, who shrugged. “Here.”

He slid the file across the desk. It was a bit heavier than the others, which was a good sign. Edward thumbed through the documents, outwardly impressed with the promising details - this could get them much closer to the Philosopher’s Stone, it seemed. He asked why he hadn’t seen it before.

“I didn’t find it until recently - it took quite a bit of digging. And I was hesitant to give it to you,” Mustang replied. “The people there don’t take kindly to state alchemists - more so than usual, and it is quite far from here. I wasn’t sure you could handle it, but I do owe you, so here.”

Edward didn’t know if he should say, “Of course I was ready for it. I’m ready for anything,” or “Wow, you’re not as much of a bastard as usual today.”

So, instead, he just said, “Thanks. And, uh, I’ll have those other reports done before I leave.”

Mustang only nodded. “Good. You’re dismissed, Fullmetal.”

It felt weird to leave without their usual bickering, and even Hawkeye frowned, but he wasn’t going to push it. He stepped outside to meet Alphonse, who was waiting in the hallway. Although, he wasn’t alone - Maes was there, somehow. Usually, his phone calls could go for more than half an hour.

He told the brothers that Elicia got to stay home from school because of her fever, but she was okay, otherwise. Still, Alphonse gave his condolences, which doubled as Edward’s without explanation - his brother usually handled people. They were walking towards the library together, Hughes still talking about his family until Edward gave the file to his brother and told him to go on ahead. Alphonse did as he was told, but was clearly perplexed by his dismissal. Hughes was unsurprised.

When his little brother was out of earshot, Edward turned to Maes. “Gregory Sans, Lucy Cahill, Kim Wyrosdick, Thomas Yore, and Ross…Moore, right? Well, anyways, I talked to them last night, but I didn’t learn their ranks. And another old lady, but she didn’t tell me her name.”

Hughes blinked, then smiled at him. “Oh, that must have been old Hazel Burns. She told me she danced with a young man last night - she really liked you. She said you were charming.”

Edward shrugged. “I guess.”

“Well, I’m proud of you. I know you didn’t want to talk to anyone, but, look at it like this, if you didn’t stay as long as you had, then Roy wouldn’t have given you that case,” Hughes said.

Again, Edward shrugged. “I guess.”

Maes squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll see you, kiddo. Stay safe.”

“Yeah, you too.”

Edward walked into the library to find his little brother sitting at a table with the papers spread before him. He took a seat across from Alphonse and lazily studied one of the documents, which talked about a series of kidnappings in the area.

Alphonse looked up at him. “Brother, you must be a really good dancer to score a mission like this,” he teased.

“Of course I am,” he snorted. “It’s not that hard.”

The brothers fell into a comfortable silence as they studied their upcoming case. Edward also worked on his reports, scribbling in details and sighing in frustration when he had to go find a book to reference, because apparently he wasn’t a good enough source and everything had to be supported by the writings of dead guys. But he told the colonel he would have it done before the train left that evening, and even if he didn’t owe anything to the bastard, it felt good to get it done.

And, he wouldn’t admit to it, but the colonel wasn’t as awful as he could’ve been, so it was okay to do something nice for a change.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a kudos or comment. Criticism is always welcomed.


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